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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865949">Infinite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerspitzengefuhl/pseuds/fingerspitzengefuhl'>fingerspitzengefuhl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because fuck kaguya, Discrimination, Gen, Ignores Naruto Ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Insert, what the hell was that yanno</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:36:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerspitzengefuhl/pseuds/fingerspitzengefuhl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In my past life, I always believed in infinite universes. It made sense that every choice created a new reality that another me lived. I pondered over the implications of the Hokage Monument as I laid in my crib that night, chewing absently on my pacifier and staring at the mobile that hung above my head. If there were infinite universes, it shouldn’t be so surprising that there is a universe where Naruto was very, very real and my universe was unheard of.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hatake Kakashi/Original Female Character(s), Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reincarnation and Transmigration</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Unedited. I impulse wrote this and figured I'd go with it. It's mainly because I simp so hard for Kakashi if we're being real with each other.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A liminal space is a place of transition, an in-between state that's neither here nor there. And, it turns out, the weirdest things happen in those liminal spaces. One could argue I was transitioning in life, moving from college on to the rest of my life, but others might say it was the physical transition that caused it - the act of crossing the street, from one end to the other. A place in-between where I was and where I wanted to go and then, in the middle of that transition, on my way to my first day of work, my chrysalis was stopped. </p><p>I could have sworn the walk sign was green, but maybe it had been red. Or maybe the bastard that hit me with his eighteen wheeler was stupid. It doesn’t matter, because no one comes back from a full-on collision with an eighteen wheeler. Pronounced dead on the scene.</p><p>There wasn’t nothing, but there wasn’t something either. It was just me and a thousand different states of me. When I moved, I left an imprint of my body in the space behind until I didn’t know which was the imprint and which was the real me. I remembered my life, but I was too preoccupied with the blinking stars around me and the transparency of my skin to really focus on any solid memories. With every passing moment - or maybe it was years, or eons, - I felt more and more of myself slipping away, like I was being slowly erased.</p><p>I woke up, surrounded by tubes and wires and a steady beeping sound that caused me to cry like a baby. The world was blurry and a specter of a person bowed before me, a giant with hands big enough to stretch over my face, temple to temple.</p><p>I was an invalid, stuck in place with little ability to move, and the giant looked after me with clinical clipped tones in a strange language I didn’t know. A woman visited me often, with black hair and a deep voice, but she never touched me. Just looked at me, her hair curtaining the small bed I laid in as she scribbled something on a clipboard. I began to question reality; was the itchy sheets beneath me real or was this some vivid hallucination that I was having in a hospital?</p><p>I discovered the truth when I was held for the first time.</p><p>A man with dark purple hair visited me. His hair was the color of plums, but the most striking feature was the golden eyes surrounded by honeyed skin. My vision was still blurry; I couldn't discern any emotion that flitted across his face, though I deduced he was happy to see me if the giant flash of white teeth was to go by. He babbled to me in light tones, his voice an octave higher than was natural, after scooping me into his arms. It struck me then; this man...was babytalking me. Because I was a baby.</p><p>I was so shocked that I forgot to cry until an hour later, when I was nestled back into my crib and the man was gone. The woman visited me and wrote something down on her clipboard before disappearing again. I fell asleep crying, my eyes sore and my face snotty.</p><p>When I woke up, it was to the sensation of big hands on my back plucking me from my crib. I opened my raw eyes to the woman carrying me for the first time. Her hands were so cold it bled into my clothes and caused the hair on my skin to raise. She walked several feet to the left (or maybe it was to the right?) and there was the man again, smiling like he was before. I was transferred into his arms and together we left, what I've come to assume, the hospital.</p><p>He took me to an apartment, and giddily showed me every room in it, muttering to me words that I didn't understand the entire time.</p><p>After that, things became routine. Every morning I cried, and every morning he scooped me up first thing in the morning and kissed my cheek before feeding me breakfast. It consisted of formula milk that he microwaved and gave to me as I was rocked gently in his arms. Then, he deposited me into a baby bouncer where I found myself idling in boredom, flicking colorful toys and kicking my feet. While I stewed, the man sat down with mountains of paper and a pen. Like that, time flew by.</p><p>My first word in their strange language was "Papa". The man leapt for joy and pranced around the room at the sound of it. In return, I learned my name from him — he called me Sachiko. There was no woman around, so I assumed I didn't have a mom.</p><p>At night, I wondered what had happened to my mother. I was in the hospital for a while. Had something been wrong with me? Did my mother die during childbirth? During the day, though, I was slightly glad I didn't have a mother. The man was enough to handle on his own.</p><hr/><p>For a while, I never considered the man to be my father. He wasn't there when I was born and I guess the natural instinct never clicked. It wasn't until my first birthday that I felt familial bonds bloom between us.</p><p>Nothing special happened. It was a birthday, a night spent with just the two of us and cake. By then I was off formula, so I was allowed the world's smallest slice of cake. The man danced around the entire night and sang happy birthday to me until the neighbors slammed on our door, shouting for him to shut up (or so I assume, my vocabulary wasn't that extensive yet). I realized then, when his face shuttered and his smile dimmed, that he must be awfully lonely. Usually, on a baby's first birthday, the parents' friends come over with their children and the parents swap parenting tips and gossip over a slice of cake. Instead, it was only the two of us and disgruntled neighbors.</p><p>I felt a kinship with him, bonding with him over his loneliness, and decided then that I would be a better daughter. I would wipe that look off his face.</p><p>With as much energy as I could muster, I shouted, "Papa!" and shimmied in my high chair to the best of my ability. My father's face glowed after that and he continued to dance and sing, heedless to the knocks at the door.</p><hr/><p>My father was a bit of a shut in, I’ve come to find out. He didn’t go anywhere, sitting at the table doing paperwork non-stop when he wasn’t spending time with me, and his groceries were delivered by an unknown benefactor. I think he might be agoraphobic, as he always looked anxious when he stepped out to check the mailbox for letters.</p><p>Shortly after I turned two, there was an attempt to enjoy the outdoors. He dressed me in blue overalls and packed us both lunches. We didn’t have a stroller, so I was placed firmly on his hip as we ventured outdoors. Immediately after leaving the apartment complex, I could tell he was on edge. His eyes darted around and his steps were uneven. At a certain point, he caught sight of something and he stilled unnaturally. I never found out what he saw that made him so anxious, as something else caught my eye.</p><p>Since realizing I was a baby, I had come to two conclusions: I was reincarnated but somehow retained my memories, and my father did a really good job dyeing his hair. I always figured I was reborn in Japan; the foreign language they spoke sounded vaguely Japanese and I watched enough anime to know generally how the language sounded. While my conclusions weren’t discounted by the new information I had, my reality still shifted once I looked over my father’s shoulder and saw the Hokage Monument towering over us, the faces like watchful gods that saw into my soul.</p><p>I started wailing and my father took that as an excuse to hightail it back to the apartment.</p><hr/><p>In my past life, I always believed in infinite universes. It made sense that every choice created a new reality that another me lived. I pondered over the implications of the Hokage Monument as I laid in my crib that night, chewing absently on my pacifier and staring at the mobile that hung above my head. If there were infinite universes, it shouldn’t be so surprising that there is a universe where <em> Naruto </em>was very, very real and my universe was unheard of. </p><p>Now that I know the where, I need to know the what. As in, what do I do now. There wasn’t an hitai-ate in sight at the apartment, so my father must be a civilian. He never left the house and was constantly doing paperwork; my father didn’t seem the type to be a shinobi, either. However, if I truly was in the <em> Naruto </em> universe, I had no intention of living as a civilian. Maybe it was naive of me, my love for the series clouding my judgement, but I couldn’t <em> not </em>become a shinobi in a world where shinobi ruled.</p><hr/><p>I had walked over to my father one day, while he was doing the usual paperwork, and tugged on his pants. </p><p>“What is it, Sachi-chan?” He cooed, immediately giving me his undivided attention. I crawled into his lap, taking a moment to peer at his paperwork, if only to really understand what my father does for work. It all just looked like squiggly lines to me, though.</p><p>“Papa, I want to become a ninja!” I answered enthusiastically, looking up at my father from my place cocooned in his arms. </p><p>My vision had gotten better as I left infancy and I could make out every single freckle on my father’s tanned face. It was only because I was paying such close attention to him that I saw the way his eyes shuttered and the previous enjoyment left his face like bleach on a stain. </p><p>“No!” He said vehemently, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Don’t say that. You don’t want to be a ninja.”</p><p>I never brought up my ambition after that, and a part of me wondered if it truly was what I wanted. If I lived my life as a shinobi, death would be a very real possibility and I would have to watch my closest friends die in front of me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I looked at this universe so far with rose-colored glasses. But if I didn’t become a shinobi, what should I do with my life?</p><hr/><p>“What are you doing, Papa?” I asked one day, standing before him as he did his usual paperwork. My chubby legs wobbled and I lost my balance, falling on my butt as I waited for his answer.</p><p>Like always, my father gave me his immediate attention. He set down the paper he was scribbling on and stooped to pick me up, setting me on his lap. I was beginning to read, but the only thing I could really understand were the plethora of numbers littering the paper.</p><p>“I’m writing down how much money Konoha spends.” I looked closer at the paper and saw the kanji for shinobi popping up a lot. Konoha must spend a lot of money on their shinobi forces. My father must be an accountant, then, or at least the Konoha equivalent of that. He must not be a high-ranking accountant, though, or we would be making enough money to not live in the dingy apartment we live in.</p><p>“Papa,” I started, my small hands twisting around his wrist, “Why can’t I become a ninja?”</p><p>I was too scared to look him in the eye, instead staring at a fixed point on the ugly plaster wall of our apartment. He held me very still in his arms, quiet and deathly still for a moment too long for me to be comfortable.</p><p>“Ninja can’t be trusted, Sachi-chan.” He finally says, his arms tightening around me. </p><p>“But they protect the village.” I protested.</p><p>“No,” Papa said, kissing my temple. “They only protect themselves. Dealing with shinobi always comes with a price, Sachi-chan. Remember that.”</p><p>It didn’t sound right to me; this wasn’t the world that I had immersed myself within in my last life. What had my father gotten into that he was so distrustful of shinobi?</p><p>Papa kisses my temple once more and releases me from his grip, setting me back down onto the floor. I knew, then, that I wouldn’t get any more answers from him. My shinobi career was over before it started. </p><p>It was probably for the best.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Unedited. I forgot to say that this fic is inspired by Catch Your Breath by Liangnui. However, just know this fic will go completely different (i hope). I also updated the tags to include 'discrimination', you'll see why in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The shinobi life may not be my path, but at the ripe age of three I decided that I was going to at least learn what I could about chakra. Walking on walls might come in handy someday. The problem was that I couldn’t just ask Papa for books to read on it - not to mention my reading abilities, while exceeding expectations for my age, were still lacking. The next logical conclusion: I would have to experiment with it.</p><p>Finding my chakra was easier said than done. I sat on my bed, reaching into me and trying to find <em> something </em>that could be chakra. I tried visualizing to see if that would help; I pictured blue sludge running in my body and powering my muscles. When I had a solid image of that, I imagined I was grabbing it with a spectral hand and pushing. At first, the image in my head stuck stubbornly and I couldn’t quite grasp the chakra. I pushed and pushed and pushed; it was so close, I could feel it. My muscles feel strained, and I shoved harder until something snapped within me.</p><p>Next thing I know, I’m on the floor crying and my father is above me holding me to his chest. Blood drips on the floor and when I press my hand to my nose I can feel wetness. </p><p>“Papa,” I whisper, gripping onto his baggy shirt, “what happened?”</p><p>His hand cards through my hair and his arms tighten around me, “Shh, it’ll be okay.”</p><p>I’m taken to the hospital, my father anxious the entire way there - whether it’s from my injury or from his agoraphobia, I am unsure. In the hospital room, he couldn’t stop darting his eyes around and his leg bounced without following a rhythm. We waited for a while there, patients that had entered after us being seen before us. </p><p>“Papa, when will the doctor come?” I finally asked, and he answered with a curt “Soon.” I didn’t take the shortness of his answer personally, irritability was normal when dealing with anxiety. </p><p>“Di Sachiko?” A nurse finally called and my father picked me up, following her into a room.</p><p>Inside the room, a man was washing his hands and he glanced over his shoulder at us. His face turned sour and I shrunk into Papa’s arms, feeling like I did something wrong. Without a word, he approached me and his hands glowed teal. It was a pretty color, but when he pressed it to my skin it felt weird. After a minute of scanning it up and down my body, the blue glow faded and he looked to my father.</p><p>“Sachiko opened the first two chakra gates,” The doctor reported, his hands now glowing a darker blue, “Her body cannot handle it. I don’t know what chakra exercises you are teaching your daughter, but-”</p><p>“I’m not teaching her anything.” Papa interrupted, crossing his arms and hunching in on himself. “She did it on her own.”</p><p>The doctor blinked, his hands stilling from where he was healing my arms. “On her own? If she’s experimenting with her chakra without supervision, that is very dangerous. If she continues, she could burn her chakra coils or unlock more than two chakra gates.”</p><p>“It won’t happen again.” Papa said firmly, sending a stern stare my way. Uh-oh, busted.</p><hr/><p>Later that night, while Papa rubbed gel to help soothe my muscles, he lectured me on the dangers of messing with my chakra.</p><p>"Do you understand now why I don't want you to be a ninja?" Papa said, his hand kneading my shoulder a little too hard. "It's dangerous, Sachi-chan, too dangerous. Whatever you did, however you did it, don't do it again."</p><p>"I understand, Papa." There was silence and he moved from my right shoulder to my left. It was with trepidation that I broke it, "Papa, what am I going to do when I grow up?"</p><p>His hands paused before resuming again and I was glad I couldn't see his face. When he spoke, his tone was wary, "Well, what do you want to do?"</p><p>I couldn't become a ninja, nevermind the fact that I didn't know if that's what I wanted. In my past life, I graduated with a degree in computer information systems and, with my knowledge of the Naruto universe, I knew that the technology here was rather lacking. So, my speciality wasn't needed. There was really one answer to his question:</p><p>"I-I don't know."</p><p>Without missing a beat, Papa replied, "It's okay to not know. You are only three, you have a while to decide."</p><hr/><p>"Papa, what if I became an animal doctor?"</p><p>"You <em> do </em>like animals. I'm sure you will make a lovely animal doctor, Sachi-chan."</p><hr/><p>"What if I build buildings, Papa? I could build buildings as tall as the sky."</p><p>"An architect? You would make the best buildings, Sachi-chan."</p><hr/><p>"Papa! What if I did money stuff for Konoha? I'd be just like you!"</p><p>"Being me would be awfully boring, Sachi-chan, but if that's what you want to do."</p><hr/><p>Before I knew it, I was starting at the Academy. Not the Shinobi Academy — a regular, boring academy meant for civilians. I still didn't know what I wanted to do with myself and, without a goal to work towards, I found myself slacking in my classes.</p><p>Now that I was five, Papa let me walk to school by myself and I finally was able to go outside on a regular basis. It seemed to be a little dangerous, but when there are hundreds of shinobi wandering around the village at all times, it didn't seem that unreasonable. I know Papa didn't trust shinobi, but surely a ninja would step in if he saw a little girl being hurt.</p><p>It was also around this time that I noticed something strange. People seemed to give me a wide berth and, when I raised my hand in class, teachers rarely called on me. I tried to make friends, despite my crippling social anxiety, but all my classmates ran away whispering. I didn't understand why until a month into my first year at school.</p><p>It was a boring day, instead of listening to my sensei lecture I doodled in my notebook. A couple of girls were whispering and giggling at me — that wasn't really that different from any other day. I was on my way home and had just turned on the street of my apartment complex when two shinobi (genin by the looks of it) came darting down the street, one of their shoulders slamming into mine and sending me sprawling onto the dirt path.</p><p>"Watch it." One of them said, before they turned the corner and I was left glaring after them.</p><p>I dusted myself off and struggled to my feet. My knee was scrapped to all hell on a few rocks when I fell, dirt clinging to the blood that welled in the cuts. The walk to my house was a limping affair, as I avoided putting too much weight on my hurt knee. It wasn’t that bad of a cut, but the sting irritated me enough to walk carefully on it.</p><p>The apartment complex Papa and I lived in was two floors, the doors to each apartment outside with the top half bordered by a metal railing. Our apartment was on the top floor, on the very end. There was something different today, though. Someone had painted our window black and wrote obscenities in bright orange on it. When I looked closely at the door, someone had scribbled words into the wood - ‘Kumo Scum’.</p><p>Preoccupied with my new life, I never gave thought to the timeline I was in. The Hokage Mountain had three faces on it when I saw it - which means I predated Minato’s reign and that a war was coming. Papa and I weren’t shinobi, though, and Konoha remained untouched by war; I wrote off these small details, instead focusing on the here and now. Naïve of me, to believe I would forever be in this bubble of just me and my father. </p><p>When I entered the apartment, Papa was at the table like always, with his paperwork in hand and concentration knitting his eyebrows. Oblivious to the destruction wrought on our property. Quietly, to not disturb him, I slipped into the small kitchen and grabbed a simple chef’s knife. He was too engrossed in his work to notice me sneaking back out the door. I scraped the knife against the wood, erasing the words and creating a small dip in the oak. </p><p>Kumogakure had always been on shaky terms with Konoha, I remember that, but had they fought against Konoha in the Second Shinobi War? I had a lot of questions - questions about my ancestry, about our presence in Konoha if we truly were from Kumo, and the only way I could get answers were from asking Papa.</p><p>“Did you have a good day at school, Sachi-chan?” Papa’s face instantly brightened when he noticed me in the doorway. I had slammed the door shut behind me to alert him of my presence.</p><p>Ask him, ask him, ask him.</p><p>“It was good, Papa.” I found myself lying, “I have to go do homework.”</p><p>There was homework I needed to do, there always is, but I sat in front of my floor-length mirror for an hour staring at my appearance.</p><p>My coloring was the same as my father - plum hair and golden eyes - which, in itself, wasn’t that odd when you thought of Sakura’s pale pink or Suigetsu’s soft blue. In Konoha, the citizens were varying shades of paleness, and it only struck me then that I <em> wasn’t. </em>I always knew my skin was darker than everyone else’s, but I never made the connection before with Kumogakure. Kumogakure was the only hidden village that had dark-skinned people. Was it true then? Are we from Kumogakure?</p><p>It didn’t matter, I decided, staring at my reflection determinedly. Konoha is where I live now, with Papa, and if people want to make us out to be Other, then fuck them.</p><p>I never did ask Papa, I didn’t need to.</p><hr/><p>The days got hotter as June approached, and school became harder. Gritting my teeth and ignoring the giggles of my classmates, that is, not the actual curriculum.It goes without saying that I wasn’t all that popular. They never touched me physically or confronted me verbally, and somehow that made being the butt of every joke worse. My classmates were cowards like that - unfortunately, smug genin were not.</p><p>The walk home was long and arduous, leaving my feet sore every day after the first few weeks. Walking halfway across Konoha was no easy feat. Some days I barely felt it, and other days my feet burned with every step. This day was one of my worst days. I wore the wrong shoes and I could feel blisters forming on my heels and the outsides of my soles being rubbed raw. </p><p>Across the dirt street, two boys lingered. They had hitai-ate hanging from their necks and they looked to be older than me by seven years at least. One of them startled from his perch against the plank fence that Konoha was known for, and I could feel trouble coming the moment our eyes met. In moments like these, I wished for my phone and earphones, the age-old trick usually had others leaving me alone. </p><p>If I had it any other way, I would have turned around and avoided them at all costs. As it is, that way lies the apartment and the duo looked vaguely like the mysterious vandalizers from the other day. I didn't even want to see the damage they did to the apartment, but I wanted Papa to see it even less.</p><p>I crossed the street and passed them without looking up from the ground, one foot in front of the other. I could feel a line of tension between us like taut razor wire ready to snap. Then, I was about to round the corner. Home free.</p><p>"Well, well, well." Fuck. "Lookit, Hiroto, it's a lightning bug."</p><p>The other boy snickered, I just continued to walk head down. "Would be a shame if someone were to step on it."</p><p>Hands, big against my back and a single one easily slotted between my shoulder blades. I fell to the ground and my knee slid against the dirt, blood welling from the scratch. My arm landed awkwardly underneath me and I hoped I didn't sprain my wrist.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to say anything, lil bug?” One of them sneered, grounding their heel into the small of my back. I yelped and my weight pressed into my arm even further - I definitely had a strain now. It wasn’t the pain, though, that brought tears to my eyes - it was the utter humiliation I felt. </p><p>“Please let me go.” I said, trying not to sound like I was begging. They laughed behind me and my face burned with something in-between embarrassment and rage. </p><p>“Depends, bug,” The foot dug harder into my back, “how much cash do you have on you?”</p><p>I was <em> five. </em> “I’m a kid, jackass.” I bit out, “I don’t have <em> any </em> money.”</p><p>Wrong answers deserved a swift kick to the ribs, apparently. A sound escaped my lungs, something between a gasp and a whimper. </p><p>“Careful who you call a jackass, bug!”</p><p>“Yeah, and if you say anything like that again I’ll-”</p><p>A whooshing sound, clothes ruffling, “You’ll do <em> what, </em>young man?”</p><p>Now, that’s a new voice. With a concentrated effort, I manage to sit up and look over my shoulder. At first, I thought I was looking at a grown up Maito Gai - green jumpsuit, bushy eyebrows, shiny black hair. Except, Gai never had facial hair. This man’s hair wasn’t a bowl cut either. My memory isn’t perfect, I never claimed it was, so it took me a minute to figure out why he looked so similar to Gai.</p><p>“Tch, stay out of it, <em> Eternal Genin. </em>” The boy that previously pinned me down with his foot said.</p><p>It clicked. <em> Maito Dai, </em>Gai’s father. Eternal Genin.</p><p>“It’s not very youthful of you two to pick on a young girl like this!” The man continued; the boys glared at him, their eyes so fierce I could picture strings of lightning colliding with Dai’s cold black gaze.</p><p>“And what are you going to do about it?”</p><p>A green hurricane of movement, too fast for my untrained eyes to keep up with, and the two genin were slumped together against the fence. Maito Dai had a few bruises peppering his face from a couple of good hits, but seemed relatively well off.</p><p>Envy struck me then. I couldn’t protect myself. I was helpless. Just as helpless as when a truck hit me, and suddenly I felt very sick. Maybe it was the bruise forming on my ribs that made me feel nauseous, or maybe it was because I wanted <em> more. </em>This was my second chance at life, and I was wasting it. I could accomplish things - I could save people. I could change the narrative. Instead, I was hiding scared, cooped up in my small bubble with Papa.</p><p>“They won’t be giving you any more trouble, civilian-san.” Maito Dai gave me a thumbs up, his teeth pearly white under his mustache. He said something else - I couldn’t hear him over the roar of blood in my ears. He was walking away and, with each thump of his feet, my vision tunnelled until all I saw was the destruction that would come to Konoha eventually. The Kyuubi Attack, the chuunin invasion, Pein’s assault. I wasn’t safe just because I was a civilian. If I wasn’t killed by an angry xenophobic genin before I was six, I’d surely die in one of those events.</p><p>“Wait.” I scrambled to my feet, hobbling after Maito Dai, “Maito Dai!”</p><p>Maito Dai turned to me, his face morphing into shock presumably from me knowing his name, “Yes, civilian-san?”</p><p>I clapped my hands together, praying to some unseen force that I will survive a long and happy life. I will give my blood, sweat, and tears for it. Just to live once, not to die when I’m twenty-three. Please make me strong.</p><p>“Please, train me!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ahhh! I changed small details like multiple times throughout writing this, so there might be some continuity errors. My bad lol.</p><p>enjoy (:</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The steamed fish in front of me smelled delicious in the way only illegal contraband could. It wasn't that Papa didn't like fish, he made it sometimes, but getting fish at a restaurant? Absolutely not. I sucked that fish down like it was water and I was dying of thirst. Papa's cooking wasn't bad — it just didn't hold up well against a bonafide Akimichi dinner.</p><p>If someone told me a year ago I would be sitting across from Gai's father at a restaurant, I would laugh in their face - and if they told me in my past life? Forget it. Maito Dai sat across from me in the booth of the barbeque joint, his black marble eyes scrutinizing me. I didn’t really know what he was looking for; I felt nervous, but I tried to keep my head up and my hands steady. Whatever he was trying to find, I’d show him I wasn’t afraid. I was ready. </p><p>“I have asked you to meet me here, Sachiko-san, to determine if you are,” Maito Dai exclaimed in the establishment, suddenly thrusting his hand forward and giving me a thumbs up, “READY FOR THE POWER OF YOUTH!”</p><p>He stayed in that position, his eyes closed under his bushy eyebrows and a dazzling smile on his face. Maito Dai waited for my response.</p><p>“Y-Yes,” I said lamely before adding, “I am ready for the power of youth, Maito-san.”</p><p>With the same energy, he gestured towards himself with his thumb and winked at me, “Then you may call me <em> Dai-sensei! </em>”</p><p><em> It’s this easy, </em> I couldn’t help but think. He accepted me as his disciple without any questions. Aloud, I said, “Got it, Dai-sensei! When will we start training?”</p><p>“Hmmm,” Dai-sensei hummed with an exaggerated thinking position, chin nestled between his thumb and forefinger, “How about now!”</p><p>While I enjoyed his enthusiasm, there was no way I would be able to train after gorging myself on barbeque and fish. Not only that, but I certainly wasn’t dressed for it; I was wearing civilian clothes that weren’t made for training at all. It, simply said, was a ridiculous idea.</p><p>“Dai-sensei, maybe we should start tomorrow instead?” I suggested, face burning at the idea of disagreeing with my newfound sensei. He wouldn’t reject me because of my lack of youth, would he? “I’m not dressed for training…”</p><p>“How foolish of me!” He replied easily, swallowing a bite of his dish, “We will start tomorrow then!”</p>
<hr/><p>The sun dipped below the horizon by the time I arrived back at the apartment, my feet sore but my hunger sated. A soft yellow glow lit up the window from the lamps inside and I cursed under my breath. It was with trepidation that I eased the front door open, and I wasn’t surprised at all when Papa rushed from where he was sitting to scoop me up into his arms.</p><p>“Sachiko!” His voice was flushed with relief, and something a little bit darker. When he released me from his arms and held me at arms’ length, peering into my face with an indiscernible stare, it shocked me to realize that darker something was <em> anger. </em>“Where have you been, Sachiko?”</p><p>The question was calm, but his tone was deadly. Papa has never been angry with me before; at the situation, yes, at the world, most definitely, but never at <em> me. </em>It has always been Papa and me against the world. He must have been really worried if he was angry with me.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Papa.” Quick, think of a lie. “I made a friend today and I lost track of time playing with them after school.”</p><p>Papa’s brows furrowed, his cheek twitching with suppression of a smile. I could tell he was warring between his disappointment and his elation at me having a friend. I fiddled with my hair, twisting the strands as I waited for him to settle on an emotion. Hopefully it was elation.</p><p>He settled in-between.</p><p>“I’m glad you are making friends, Sachi-chan.” <em> I’m a liar, a filthy liar. </em>“But I was really worried about you. That is why I am grounding you for a week.”</p><p>“But-” How am I going to train after school, then?</p><p>“That is final, Sachiko.” He steeled himself, puffing out his chest, and I knew the argument was lost before it began.</p><p>Glumly, I sulked to my room. For an hour, I stared at my ceiling, oscillating between wanting to cry and trying to find a solution. My homework was sprawled across my floor from a half-hearted attempt at it. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though. Most days I didn’t even want to go to school, I only went because it was the only excuse I had to go outside. I sighed.</p><p>Then a lightbulb went off.</p>
<hr/><p>“Your lunch is on the counter, Sachi-chan.” Papa called from the main room. It took me a second to locate the bento box, but when I did I stuffed it into my school bag on top of the soft material of some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Papa ambled into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, his eyes piercing me. “Remember, Sachi-chan, to come home <em> right after school. </em>”</p><p>“Yes, Papa.” I rushed past him to put on my shoes, unable to look at him in the face. “I will be going now. Bye, Papa.”</p><p>I took the route I usually did for school, but halfway to the Academy I stopped at a public restroom. I squeezed into one of the stalls and shimmied out of my clothes, shoving the garments into my school bag. To replace them, I pulled on the sweatpants and t-shirt I kept in there. With a slightly guilty conscience, I left the restroom and began walking again.</p><p>The road to the Academy was to my left. I went right.</p><p>“Sorry, Papa.” I said to the sky, hoping he will never find out, and if he does, that he will forgive me. This was important, this was an opportunity that could change the course of fate. It was life or death, for me. I squared my shoulders and puffed my chest out, determined to shake off the creeping guilt.</p><p>One step in front of the other, I wandered around the streets of Konohagakure. The problem with ditching classes to train with Dai-sensei was that I had to actually <em> find </em>him. It was harder than I thought, despite him being a walking green target. I had left pretty early and I hoped that maybe I could catch Dai-sensei lurking around the shinobi Academy. Maybe he was dropping Gai off? Is Gai even in the Academy yet? Damn, why can’t I remember the timeline?</p><p>A shoulder knocked into mine as someone passed me, someone around my height. I startled, swivelling on my foot to catch who had walked into me. “Hey! Be carefu-”</p><p>Unimpressed eyes, white hair, hidden face. It was, undoubtedly, Hatake Kakashi.</p><p>“W-Wait!” Kakashi raised an eyebrow, and I had the feeling he was looking down on me, the poor civilian girl. “Um, h-have you seen a man with a mustache in a green suit?”</p><p>Without a word, Kakashi pointed in the direction he had just come from. Before I could say anything else, he turned around and continued away from the shinobi Academy. Part of me deflated, I had missed an opportunity to introduce myself to <em> the </em>Kakashi. It was for the best, though, he’s kind of a prick as a kid.</p><p>I went in the direction he indicated, running as fast as my feet could carry me so I didn’t miss him, and soon I could see two blurry emerald figures in the distance. Confident that I had found him, I shouted, “Dai-sensei!”</p><p>The tallest green silhouette looked in my direction and he lifted a hand in greeting. As I approached them, I identified the smaller figure as Maito Gai in his mini-glory. He was sniffling, wiping snot on his sleeve. It was hard to imagine that this was the guy who would beat Madara in the future.</p><p>“Dai-sensei, I’m glad I found you!” I smiled, “I’m ready for training!”</p><p>Dai-sensei put a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder, but addressed me with a confused grin, “Shouldn’t you be at the Academy, Sachiko-san?”</p><p><em> Quick, think of a lie. </em>“I’m taught at home, Dai-sensei.” It was getting a bit disconcerting how easily the lies are falling from my lips.</p><p>“Oh, how youthful!” Dai-sensei replied, though I can’t really see how being homeschooled is particularly youthful. “This is my son, <em> Maito Gai </em>, and he will be training alongside you.”</p><p>“Hello, Gai-san!” Gai’s tears had dried by now and, like a switch, his mood flipped to bright and sunny. </p><p>“Hello, Sachiko-san.” Gai gave a bright smile and his teeth flashed prettily in the sun, “My father has told me about you!”</p><p>“Indeed I have. It is not everyday I accept a student.” Dai-sensei nodded knowingly, before pointing towards the sky and jutting out a hip. “Are you ready for a youthful journey of a lifetime?”</p><p>Excitement welled in my stomach and I nodded vigorously along with him, my fists clenching at the idea. This is it, this is me taking back my power. “Yes!”</p>
<hr/><p>With the burning sun drying the sweat that dripped down my face and my clothes sticking uncomfortably to my back, I had to admit to myself that I was, indeed, not ready. Dai-sensei was a merciless teacher, that or I was severely out of shape. Seeing how I was instructed to run two laps around Konoha on my first day of learning, I leant towards the former. </p><p>Halfway through the first lap, my knees gave out and I fell into the dirt of the outskirts. Gai, who was ahead of me, slowed down when he noticed I wasn’t next to him. My breaths came in puffs, my lungs burning for air, and hair was falling out of my ponytail. I waved him away, managing to wheeze out, “Go ahead of me.”</p><p>Despite my words, Gai jogged back to me. I must look so foolish and weak to him, I can’t even run. In my past life I wasn’t that active either, I actually despised exercise. Gai reached out his hand and, after a moment of hesitation, I grabbed it. He easily hauled me to my feet, too easily and I stumbled slightly on the landing.</p><p>“Breathe from your belly, Sachiko-san!” Gai advises once I’m on my feet. He exaggerates his breathing, his stomach concaving and expanding with each diaphragmatic breath. “It’s a lot easier.”</p><p>“He is right, my student!” Dai-sensei says from behind me, giving me an emphatic thumbs up. I didn’t even hear him sneak up on me. On my own time, I should work on honing my senses. “Now, get back to running!”</p><p>We ran until lunchtime. Dai-sensei called us to the small training ground that I was pretty sure is reserved for genin, and I gratefully limped my way to him. I fell to the ground and pulled my bento box from the depths of my bag, shuffling my clothes to the side. We mostly ate in silence, the duo in front of me devouring their food like ravenous monsters. It made me hungrier just looking at them, but I was scared that if I ate too much I would barf it up.</p><p>“So,” I started, swallowing my rice before speaking again, “why aren’t you at the Academy, Gai-san?”</p><p>Gai perked up at the word ‘Academy’ and jabbed a thumb towards his chest, “Today was the admission exam! We find out if we’re accepted in a month. Are you not choosing to become a shinobi, Sachiko-san?”</p><p>I smiled at my food, stirring the chunks of rice around the sauce. Truth is, I haven’t let go of that childish dream to become a great ninja one day. I wish I could be happy being a civilian, but really I felt helpless. There was so much knowledge at my fingertips, knowledge that I could manipulate to make my life better, and I couldn’t use it. A sigh escaped me. I couldn’t really explain to them that my father was anti-shinobi for whatever reason - most likely the mistreatment we’ve experienced at Konohan hands and the gross mismanagement of power that the nearby genin have exhibited. There really wasn’t any other choice but to deflect.</p><p>“I wouldn’t be that good of a ninja, Gai-san.” I tried to force the smile I gave them to reach my eyes, but all I could feel was a twitch in my cheek.</p><p>“Nonsense!” Dai-sensei had been quiet our entire lunch break, chewing through his meal with the speed of Rock Lee sans leg weights. “After I am done with you, you will have the makings of a great ninja! You might even be able to apply next year.”</p><p>I doubted it, but hummed in agreement anyways. </p>
<hr/><p>Dinner with Papa was tense, though he seemed willfully ignorant of the atmosphere. My leg bounced the entire time. After exhaustive training with Dai-sensei and Gai, I had trudged back home around the time the civilian Academy would get out. Papa didn’t question why I was sweaty or tired, and I didn’t offer an explanation either. I just said my greetings and laid faced down on my bed until supper. </p><p>Once I finished every bite on my plate, engulfing all the food to restore the energy in my body, I excused myself to my bedroom and subsequently passed out.</p><p>As soon as my eyes closed, I dreamt.</p><p>It was the beginning of my time in this world. I was in my crib, staring at the ceiling in what I think is the hospital, and a plume of plum hair leans over my crib. It wasn’t a memory I remember, maybe it was lost to the trauma of birth, or maybe it was because I could not understand the language at the time.</p><p>This time I clearly heard Papa’s words, “She looks just like me.”</p><p>“Yes, she does.” A voice answers and from the corner of my eye, I see the tip of someone’s head, covered in black locks. There are sounds, like that of a pen on paper, and then cold pale hands are reaching into my crib to pinch my stomach. “She’s healthy, too.”</p><p>I woke up in a cold sweat and couldn’t fall back asleep. When I padded into the room, I could see that Papa had fallen asleep at his desk. </p><p>
  <em> What are you hiding, Papa? </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So! I started another self-insertlike fic called "Chase the Dark" that focuses on Minato's era more if you guys wanna give it a read &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I stopped going to the Academy all together. I knew I was ruining my future, but when that future seems so intangible, you stop caring. Everyday I woke up and asked myself what was the point of going to the Academy. If I didn't get stronger, I wouldn't make it in this world. My father didn't understand that — he didn't understand that it was do or die. There were things coming for Konoha, for the shinobi world, and I was doubtful that I would survive them. Not to mention the sour looks I still received from everyone else, or the way they jostled my shoulder like I wasn’t even there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a week of body conditioning, Dai-sensei wanted to teach Gai and I the basics of shuriken and kunai. With my allowance that I had saved up, I visited a weapons shop and bought my first pouch of throwing weapons at the recommendation of the owner. However, when I showed them to Dai-sensei, they didn't pass his inspection — they were dull and malformed. He made me return them that day and picked out my new set of kunai and shuriken, also adding some ninja wire to the mix. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was a bit embarrassed when the owner told me the price, which was out of my budget. My ears had turned red and I had stuttered out to him that I wouldn't need the ninja wire. That is, until Dai-sensei stepped in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You must be mistaken, civilian-san!" He had said jovially, though there was a hint of steel in his words, "I have calculated the cost myself! For the shuriken and kunai, it should cost 4,000 ryo and the ninja wire added is only 2,000 ryo! All of that together would be 6,532 ryo plus tax!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The owner glared, but obliged and changed the total cost. After that, I decided two things — a) that this world is wholly unfair and b) that I would take Dai-sensei with me everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It also became abundantly clear to me that I didn’t deserve Papa. He couldn’t stay angry at me for long, and after five days of coming home obediently at the allotted time, he agreed to let me go out on the weekend to play with my mysterious friend. Guilt gnawed at me every night at dinner, knowing I was lying to Papa who trusted me with every fibre of his being. When I laid in bed at night, my body sore and aching, I tried to rationalize it as me saving us from the future. Once I was strong, I would protect him from the world he was so scared of. That is, if I did get strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Training was frustrating. Dai-sensei said I was making progress, but I felt like it was centimeters in comparison to Gai’s inches. He was faster than me still, had more stamina than me, and his accuracy with throwing shuriken was better than mine. I wasn’t used to being bad at things. In my past life, I was far from a genius, but most things came easily enough to me to coast through life as an average person. The pressure built up fast, like a tsunami hammering at the wood of my mental gates. On Saturday, the gates broke open after being battered for a straight week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway through our laps, I collapsed onto the ground, and Gai slowed down to come back for me like he always did. He was so kind and selfless. Like a heavenly angel helping out a poor commoner, he extended his hand towards me. My hands dug into the dirt, the silt burrowing under my fingernails and sticking to the sweat that covered my hands. Tears came to my eyes and I tried to shut them out by squeezing them closed, but it couldn’t stop the flood of tears. Everything was building, building, building, and I could hear my harsh breaths thundering against my ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” I asked, my throat feeling clogged by my emotions, “Why am I not good enough? I-I’m trying and trying and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>do it. I’m not like you, Gai, I’m so, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>weak.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand felt warm on my shoulder, grounding and comforting, and I hated it. I couldn’t look him in the face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can do it, Sachiko-san.” His voice held no softness, no pity or sympathy. He was just telling the truth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was that simple, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wiped my tears and took his hand. He hauled me up and we started running again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyday we had the same schedule. We would run our laps, eat lunch, and then practice with our shuriken and kunai. Dai-sensei left chakra training out of our regimen; it was probably due to the fact that he couldn’t use ninjutsu or genjutsu. If we learned chakra manipulation from him, it is possible we would be getting a flawed education. Instead of telling us that, though, he just assured Gai that he would learn it in the Academy. I resolved to get Gai to teach me what he learned in the Academy later on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was after shuriken practice, when I was picking up the stray shuriken (none of them hit the target), that Gai approached me. “Sachiko-san,” He gave me a thumbs up once he had my attention, “let us train some more!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were two choices before me: get up or give up. Everything before Sachiko had been easy, a path that others had paved before that I was simply following. As Sachiko, the road had not been paved and I had to do it myself. Over Gai’s shoulder, I saw Dai-sensei smiling - a gentle smile, unlike his usual wide grins - and I found myself echoing that smile. I might have to do it myself, but I didn’t have to walk the path alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Konohagakure had a public library, built near the shinobi Academy in the cluster of administrative buildings. On Sunday, sore but with a fresh wave of optimism and motivation, I decided to take a trip to the expansive building. Dai-sensei had given Gai and I the day off, much to my disappointment; he cited that we needed rest to recuperate after our first week of training. Gai and I secretly plotted to come together in the afternoon to train, anyhow. However, I knew that my training was skewed and unbalanced. While conditioning my body was a very important part in learning the shinobi arts, I needed to look into the academic side of things as well - especially in learning chakra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My knowledge of the library was limited, and was mostly information I managed to pry out of Gai during lunch. The library was split into ranks, not unlike mission ranking, and determined who was able to access what. Being a civilian, the only sections I could access were the E-rank and D-rank areas. The working staff was composed of chuunin who were benched into administrative positions - whether it was due to poor performance on the field or injuries varied depending on the chuunin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The big red doors to the library didn't give easily under my five year old arms; actually, they didn't give at all. I huffed under my breath and tried to push again, but all that I managed to do was make my arms even more sore than before. Plenty of strong, grown people walked the streets and saw me pushing on the door, yet no one deigned to help the little </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kumo </span>
  </em>
  <span>girl. Fuckin' assholes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned around and pressed my back into the wooden doors, using my legs as leverage to push the doors open. Sweat beaded down my forehead and gathered on the nape of my neck. It was already so damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot </span>
  </em>
  <span>outside. I sucked in a breath, gave one last attack and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened outwards under tiny five-year old hands. Just, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>five year old hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kakashi stared at me deadpan from where he pulled the door open. His expression seemed to say: "You're a fucking idiot." And maybe I was an idiot, but he has no right to think it! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of giving him a piece of my mind, I begin to say, "Thank yo—" when he slams the library door in my face, himself safely ensconced inside. Little, pea-sized </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now with the knowledge that it is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pull </span>
  </em>
  <span>door and not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>push </span>
  </em>
  <span>door, I yank the door open and step inside. The inside is bigger than I expected it to be, and more pristine with sparkling tile floor and an oak receptionist desk greeting any newcomers. A chuunin sits behind the desk, sporting a healing cut across their forehead and a broken arm in a sling. Behind her is a large arch embedded into the dark blue walls that leads to the E-rank section - I know this because, hanging above the arch, is an oak sign saying as such. Kakashi, the lucky jackass, is nowhere in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” The chuunin sounds bored, and is currently staring down at the desk while (I am presuming) doodling on a piece of paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” My voice squeaks and I clear my throat, “yeah. What’s in the E-rank section?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pencil does a twirl in her hand, dexterous fingers manipulating the writing tool this way and that way. She lists without looking up, “Fiction, nonfiction, Academy textbooks, history books, general medical books—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything about the basics of chakra in there?” I interrupt, knowing that if I don’t I’d be sitting there a while as she rattled off the section. I wonder if they have to memorize it, or if she has gotten the question so much she learned it involuntarily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably.” The pencil snaps in half and, looking nonplussed, the chuunin fetches another pencil from a nearby container. “Is that all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Just how mind numbing is this job for a shinobi? Shouldn’t they outsource this to civilians? “yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chuunin just hums unconcerned in response and goes back to scribbling on her paper. With no further instruction, I stumble past her and through the threshold of the E-rank section. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In my past life, I wouldn’t have categorized myself as an organized person. It is greatly ironic, since I went to college to learn about computer databases and the sorting of such information. My choice in the career field was more so because of convenience than any actual sort of passion or, even, talent. Come to think of it, I didn’t really have any passions, unless you count my obsession with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naruto</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but even then that is not much of a hobby. It is not like I was a collector or anything; I always wanted the DVD set, but was too money conscious to waste dollars on it. Most of my time was just watching and rewatching the first half of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naruto </span>
  </em>
  <span>over and over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Sachiko, I didn’t have much of a passion for anything either. The half-assed drive I had for making good grades was suspiciously absent in this life - if I were to name it, I would identify it as feelings of pointlessness due to having trauma from literally dying. That, and a healthy dose of clarity that everyone else in this universe lacks. I know what is going to happen in the next few years, and I want to be on the better side of it. The ideal situation is that, as Sachiko, I transfer that half-assed drive I had for academics towards becoming a semi-decent shinobi. While I would love to be one of the greats, I didn’t need to be, I just needed to be able to keep Papa and I alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe I’ll learn some organizational skills, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A stack of books topples over onto me, having been disrupted from me rifling within their midst, and someone snickers an aisle away. I groan quietly, because libraries are sacred, and quickly shuffle the books back together. I had gathered any books I could find on the basics of chakra, and haphazardly threw them onto the table I decided to occupy for the morning. Unfortunately, that meant there was no rhyme or reason to which books I pulled out - sometimes I pulled more intermediate reference material when, what I really needed, was the basics of the basics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My main goal was to learn how to access my chakra without accidentally opening one of the chakra gates. Yeah, I still remembered that and how much it fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Avoiding that outcome would save me a trip to the hospital as well as from having to explain to Papa what exactly I have been doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was in the library for a long time, reading passages and writing them down in a notebook meant for schoolwork. The library had one window, hidden behind shelves of books and out of my immediate vision, so I almost missed the repositioning of the sun in the middle of the sky. I hurriedly pushed the books on the return cart before dashing out of the library.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Gai was already at our meeting spot when I arrived. There was nothing special about where we decided to meet up. It was a random intersection between two streets that was near the training grounds we used. He was dressed in his usual green pants plus black tank, and from this distance I could tell he was doing a wall sit against the beige fence.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Does this guy ever take a break? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I knew from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naruto </span>
  </em>
  <span>lore that the answer was a sound ‘no’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gai-san!” I called as I neared him, picking up my pace to reach him sooner. Unfortunately, I broke his concentration and his butt hit the dirt the moment he looked in my direction. I flinched in sympathy, “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gai, on his feet in no time, just gave me a thumbs up in reassurance, “Don’t worry about it, Sachiko-san! Ready to head out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hummed in simple agreeance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We didn’t walk in silence to the training grounds, far from it. Gai was rattling off fun facts about himself in a bid for us to get closer as training buddies. I had the feeling that he never really had a friend before and, well, I haven’t had one either in this life, so I played along. When he asked me a question, I answered obediently, and made sure to remember everything he told me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like always, the training ground was empty when we got there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say, Gai-san-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me Gai!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, well Gai,” I placed my bag down by a training dummy, “what if we worked on chakra exercises today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chakra exercises? Why?” Gai scratched his chin and looked at me like I had grown a second head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every shinobi can control their chakra.” I responded, trying to appeal to Gai’s ninja dreams, “What if you got a head start now so you can help others in the Academy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gai rubbed his chin in thought before nodding vigorously, “Yosh! What did you have in mind, Sachiko-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me Sachi-chan.” Gai’s face lit up like I told him he would be the next Hokage or something, “Well, we should first try and channel our chakra. I looked it up at the library and wrote down some notes here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pulled my notebook from my bag and handed it to Gai, having memorized all the notes for that particular subject already. Gai dropped to the ground and began reading down the page slowly. I had to remind myself that he was just five and couldn’t read as fast as I could. Even though I was also five, I had picked it up quicker than most my supposed age. Perks of being reincarnated, I guess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha’s meditating?” Gai scratched at his head, turning his head sideways as he stared at the picture, like that would somehow help him understand better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Damn, how does someone explain sitting around doing nothing? “well it is when you focus on your inner self.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay.” He still looked confused so I assured him I would show it to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We spent the afternoon on chakra exercises. Meditating came first, both of us trying to find our chakra within ourselves. When that didn’t work, we tried the leaf exercise. By the time of nightfall, neither of us had really figured out how to access our chakra. At the crestfallen expression of Gai, I comforted him and told him it would take time. Secretly, though, I was just as disappointed, if not more. There was an expectation that it would come easily to me, but I must have overestimated myself. If that wasn’t disheartening, I don’t know what is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gai didn’t want to go home, he wanted to continue practicing until the sun dipped under the horizon. However, with a knowing smile, Dai-sensei appeared at the training ground to collect him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured I would find you two here!” Dai-sensei held out a thumb, and I understood wordlessly what he meant. I glowed with pride as Dai-sensei patted me on the head. “How youthful of you two to take the initiative! If you insist on training, then I will see you tomorrow afternoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Dai-sensei gathered Gai onto his shoulders and they began walking home. I smiled at their backs, feeling a sense of accomplishment even though I hadn’t achieved anything that day. It was just the first step, after all.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>That night, Papa insisted on brushing my hair for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had me sit in front of him, my back to his crossed knees. With brush in hand, Papa began pampering my long plum curls. The curls reached my thin shoulder blades, and a part of me felt pride at the weight of them. It was a vanity thing, keeping my curls long and luscious when any other shinobi-in-training would have clipped them off. It would have been easier to shear the dead weight. I wouldn’t have to tie it up anymore, and some people </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>rock short hair. But-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow!” I yelped as the bristles caught on a particularly knotty tangle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush, Sachi-chan.” Papa simply said. A small pause and then he asked, “How is school?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I swallowed the guilt in my throat, pulled my legs to my chest and tucked my chin into my knees, “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Papa’s hand stilled, and for a second I thought maybe he knew, then he continued brushing. “Just fine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” My voice was small, and for once I felt like the age my body portrayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Sachiko,” Papa pulled me around to face him, his hands grasping my shoulders as he looked me in the eye, “we need to talk about something important. Something about where I come from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Papa, I already-” He held up his hand, asking for my silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sachi-chan, my sweet girl, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” With a shaking hand, Papa placed the brush next to his thigh before running his fingers through my hair. I would never cut my curls if it meant feeling Papa brush my hair once more. Papa cleared his throat and I could see tears shining in his eyes. His emotions were always so easy to read, his heart so exposed, so easy to break. If I became stronger, I could protect him. I could protect his heart. “You don’t have to protect me, Sachiko.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did he hear me? Did I say that out loud? </span>
  </em>
  <span>No, I didn’t. My trembling lips were pressed tightly together. Paranoia tickled my mind briefly, thinking he could peel my skull back and read my thoughts with the ease of a Yamanaka. Papa soothed the worry wrinkles on my forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to hide from me. This village, Konoha, has treated you unfairly, hasn’t it?” With his golden eyes flitting about my face, the only thing I could do was meekly nod. “Humans are born selfishly, Sachiko. We do things to serve ourselves first and everyone else second. Many people will tell you that’s wrong. Don’t listen to them, my sweet girl. Forget friends, forget family. Live for yourself. Live </span>
  <em>
    <span>selfishly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Urgent fingers clasped my jaw, gripping and grounding me into the amber of his eyes. Something lingered there, drowning in his soul, and it was something dark that I didn’t want to name, something deep and desperate and too close to fear for my liking. Terror tugged at my heart like a dog snapping at an intruder. It was a foreign feeling, different from my frustration and worry for the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Papa’s fingers tightened, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you understand?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, too afraid to say something. This wasn’t the Papa I knew, the Papa that danced in the kitchen while he cooked and always paused in his paperwork to eat dinner with me. This Papa was dark and twisted; this Papa was </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand!”</span>
</p>
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